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A Little Light Bondage

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"Clint."

"Yes, Darcy?"

"I'm upside down in the Avengers gym."

"Yes, I noticed that when I tied you to the high bar in said gym."

Darcy squinted at Clint. He couldn't tell if it was out of irritation or because her glasses were slipping down (up?) her face. He reached in and nabbed them before they could fall the four feet to the tumbling mat on the floor.

The squinting turned to glaring. "Clint, why did you tie me to the high bar?"

Clint spared half a glance to Darcy's coat and purse, which he'd been thoughtful enough to hang on the elliptical machine instead of dumping on the ground. The purse that hopefully held her Taser. It probably would have dropped out of her pocket when he was trussing her up otherwise. Probably. "You keep telling me you want to practice 'ninja things.'"

"Yeah, but—"

"I've been in this exact position at least four times in my career." Six if you counted the ones where he'd also been naked, but technicalities were boring.

Darcy brought her bound hands in front of her face and examined the knot. "We are going to have words about this when I'm out of here, Clint. Many words."

He eyed her purse again.

She worked her way out of the rope around her wrists in a very respectable amount of time. "You did listen!" he said, delighted. She left the rope looped around one wrist and flipped him off with her other hand.

"Okay, I assume this is the hard part," she said, crunching up and grabbing her knees to steady herself while she examined the rope binding her ankles and hanging her from the bar. She reached up and tugged on a knot. "How is this supposed to come loose with my entire body weight on it?"

"Good question," Clint said.

"So many, many words," she said, but she was already looking around her. He'd hung her in the direct center of the high bar, so she couldn't reach the support pole on either end. Grabbing the bar itself proved to put her in such an awkward, cramped position she could hardly reach her ankles, and she couldn't really hold the position one-handed anyway.

Clint had, of course, four (to six) different ways to get out of the situation, but he knew better than to suggest anything to Darcy before she broke down and asked.

"Ha!" she said a minute later.

"Ha?"

"Let me just—" She unlooped the spare rope from her wrist and somehow, without dropping it or falling down, managed to get the damn thing around her waist and the bar. She tied it efficiently, still working one-handed, and then there she was, suspended in midair with her hands free.

He…hadn't thought of that one.

Darcy moved through the rest of it smoothly—loosen knot, slide ankles free from rope, grab bar, shove the rope around her waist out of the way. She let go without looking, and Clint was (of course) right there to catch her.

"Not bad," he said with his best poker face.

She laughed. "A, not bad my ass, I was awesome. B, the next time you want to try a little light bondage on a date, it's my turn to pick." (He swallowed hard.) "C—"

She Tasered him.

He dropped to the mat, twitching.

Darcy smiled sweetly down on him, tucked the Taser back into her back pocket (How. How had it not fallen out. How.) and collected her purse and coat. "Lovely evening, Clint. I look forward to returning the favor!" she called over her shoulder.

The door slammed behind her just as Clint was able to draw a full breath in. "I have feelings for that woman," he told the high bar.

As if on cue, the loose rope that Darcy'd left hanging on the bar slipped loose and fell, smacking him in the face.

"Lots of feelings," he said, muffled.